Page 18 of Attached At Heart
“Oh, that’s really not necessary.” I flew—okay, maybe stumbled—out of the car after Blake, who walked confidently to the building’s front doors, holding them open for me. “I got it from here.”
The stumbling aspect of my quick escape did not go unnoticed by Blake, who simply looked at me with a raised brow.
I understood he was trying to be considerate, but I really didn’t need Blake going anywhere near my apartment. I was embarrassed enough that he’d seen the outside of the building, which definitely didn’t have a single fleck of curb appeal. The inside of the building wasn’t much better, with its chipped paint and decor that may or may not have been thrifted from the set ofThat ’70s Show. And my apartment, which was almost entirely still in boxes with the occasional rodent visitor, was definitely not something I wanted anyone,especiallyBlake, to see.
“What floor are you on?” he asked as I fished out the key fob to get into the second set of doors, accessing the building.
“First,” I said absently as I beeped us in. “I got it from here. Really. It’s just around the corner.”
“You shouldn’t be on the first floor.” A crease formed between his eyes as he ignored my insistence and brushed past me into the building. “You’re at more risk for break-ins being street level.”
“It was the cheapest option,” I huffed, resisting the urge to push him back out through the door. I’d never manage. He was way too big and broad and annoying.
“You and I both know you could afford a higher floor,” Blake said with a roll of his eyes.
“I could,” I allowed, “but then I wouldn’t be able to put most of my paycheck into savings for the clinic. Figured it would be a good idea after the whole Austin thing fell through.”
Blake’s gaze swept over the building entry, his lips pulling tight as he surveyed every little detail. He was always soscrutinizing; I knew he’d get like this. And this was just the fucking foyer.
When he reached a hallway that ran both right and left, he glanced over his shoulder at me, seeking directions.
I sighed before relenting. “Right. Apartment 117.”
He waited for me to catch up to him before taking off to the right, marching down the hallway before stopping in front of my door.
“Thanks,” I said breathlessly as I leaned against the entry to my apartment, hoping to bar him from entering. “You really didn’t have?—”
“I swear to God, if you tell me I ‘didn’t have to do that’ one more time, you might have to find another man to marry.”
“Don’t make me do that,” I groaned, tipping my heavy head back until it thunked against the door frame.
Blake shook his head, a smile playing on his lips again. “I’d never. Now, let’s get you inside.”
I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t leave until I walked through this door. So, after taking a quick moment to gather myself, I turned and let us into the apartment, holding my breath the entire time.
When I didn’t turn on the lights, hoping that if the unit stayed shrouded in darkness, Blake wouldn’t be able to see how crappy it was, he flicked them on for me.
Fuck.
I felt his presence still behind me as the buzzing light illuminated the space. Then he cleared his throat. His voice was hard and unrelenting when he spoke.
“Delaney.”
“Hm?”
I didn’t dare look back at him.
“There’s a rat on your stove.”
I trailed my gaze over to the kitchen, and sure enough, Blake was right.
“Oh, that’s Fred.” I forced a laugh through my lips. “I think he’s just cooking himself some dinner.”
“Delaney,” Blake said again, groaning this time.
“What?”
I chanced a glimpse over my shoulder to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. When he dropped his hand, his eyes met mine, and they were dark, irritation swimming in them.
